


Join your hands to your hearts

by jauneclair



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Dom/sub Undertones, Domme!Madi, Established Relationship, F/M, Flint is turned on, Jealousy, M/M, Madi takes matters into her capable hands, Multi, Post-Season/Series 03, Silver is not good at this polyamory thing, Spanking, Threesome - F/M/M, Under-negotiated Kink, hints of sub!Silver, sub!Flint, that's the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 01:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10843434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jauneclair/pseuds/jauneclair
Summary: Madi's approach to diplomacy in negotiating relationships is not what Flint expected.





	Join your hands to your hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Not quite canon-compliant, as this assumes that Madi, Silver, and Flint have entered into a poly relationship post-S3. 
> 
> Title sort of kind of inspired by Shakespeare's Henry VI ("Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts").

It's just a moment, after Flint has brought Madi a book from his shelf that her own collection lacks, when she steps close and goes up on her tiptoes and Flint doesn't lean away. He lets her press a kiss to his lips, for the first time.

There is a loud thump and Flint is already turning so that Madi is behind him, his hand straying to the handle of a weapon that isn't there.

"I'm sorry," Silver seems to bite out, standing in the doorway, "am I interrupting something? Should I go?"

He takes another thunderous step forward, his false leg thumping against the floorboards of Madi's room.

"You're not interrupting anything," Flint says in his haste, and nearly winces when Madi raises her brows. He wants to apologize, and yet Madi is already turning to look at Silver with that same expression.

"Why should you need to go?" she asks.

Just like that, Silver wilts, ducking his head down. He's still glaring, though, when he deigns to look over at Flint through those damnably dark lashes; and he won't look at Madi at all.

This outburst - it's unexpected, but perhaps not unsurprising.

"Captain Flint," Madi says, "I would like to speak to John alone. Please."

It's an order parsed as a request. Flint says, "Yes, ma'am," and bows out as quickly as he can without making it seem like a retreat.

* * *

It's late enough that Flint is about to bed down on the Walrus for the night, having finished meeting with DeGroot about ship matters and updating his own logs, when there comes a knock on the door.

"Enter," he calls.

Silver shuffles in, throwing the bolt behind himself. He leans against the door, failing to look unconcerned.

"What are you doing here?" Flint asks. He's not angry; just surprised, and he tries (but likely fails) to keep it from coloring his voice. There's no business that could bring Silver out here at this hour - which means that business isn't his intent. Silver's still not quite meeting Flint's eye, but at least the anger that had drawn his shoulders taut earlier has dissipated.

Silver fiddles with his rings. He has quite a collection of them now. "I was told that I better not show my fucking face in camp again until I made things right with you."

Flint can't help the small huff he lets out. "Madi said that, did she?"

"Well," Silver says, "not in those exact words, no. But it was made very clear to me that that was...their essence."

Flint huffs again. Then he twitches his fingers at Silver and says, "Come here."

Silver hobbles over and hitches himself up into Flint's lap. He winces when he sits down, which Flint figures is his leg bothering him, and resolves not to question it.

"I'm sorry for being a rotten fuck," Silver says. He laughs, but it's hollow. "I'm the one who has the least right to be jealous out of us - and well, here I am."

Silver's staring at his hands again.

"It's alright." Silver looks at him - Flint wants to shake the startlement out of his eyes. He supposes he ought to be mad, or even annoyed, but he spends so much of his time raging at the rest of the world that he finds he has little time for it in his bed. Instead, Flint curls a hand around Silver's thigh. "No one can expect this kind of arrangement to be smooth sailing all the time."

He presses a kiss to Silver's temple, tasting the ever-present hint of salt on those curls. Silver's whole body shudders and his arms come up to wrap around Flint.

"Come to bed?" Flint asks.

Silver blinks up at him. "Alright," he says, "but there's something I'm supposed to tell you about that, too."

Flint's brows raise. He leans back in his chair. "Oh? What's that?"

Silver bites his lip. Then he's kicking off Flint's lap and going over to the cot while Flint sits there, watching. Silver's belt comes off and his trousers come down, pooling around his ankles.

Flint's mouth goes dry.

"Madi says that you're to punish me more," Silver says, looking steadily at Flint over his shoulder, "if you don't think what she did suffices."

Madi's handiwork on Silver's ass is one of the most beautiful things that Flint has ever seen, and that includes the rest of Silver and all of Madi, too.

He rises from his chair without really thinking about it. Silver is leaning over the cot, weight on his forearms, as Flint brings one hand up to the curve of Silver's red, smarting ass. He can see Silver biting the inside of his cheek as Flint makes his inspection; but his quartermaster can't suppress a moan as Flint's thumb traces, over and over and over, the welts rising from of one of the belt marks that criss-cross Silver's skin.

"Captain," Silver whines, writhing away from Flint's touch, until Flint dips a hand between Silver's already sweat-slicked thighs and finds his flushed cock.

"Hush," he says, stroking along Silver's shaft. His quartermaster already smells of come - Flint doesn't know if Madi permitted Silver to clean himself after she'd finished with him. Flint imagines Silver pulling on his trousers over the welts on his ass and the come drying on his skin, trying not to struggle under Madi's sharp gaze. Flint bites his bottom lip, hard, stifling a groan at that. These thoughts only serve to make him stroke Silver faster.

Silver keens into Flint's touch and Flint's just as confused as Silver's body is about these proceedings. Was Madi's punishment truly intended for Silver? Or was it meant for Flint, too? All he knows is that his soul is about to split apart from all the wants that flicker like a thousand fireflies in his mind: he wants to spread Silver's cheeks and ram himself home without another moment's delay; he wants to lay Silver across his desk and belt him again for looking at Flint with such impunity earlier; he wants to keep Silver facedown on the cot and deliver a few more smacks to his ass so that he bears Flint's mark as well; he wants to lave his tongue over these marks and maybe Silver's hole as well, leaving Silver a soothed but hollowed-out wreck.

He wants all of these things and he also wants Madi here, to explain, to tell him which of these things he should do, which of these things she _wants_ him to do to Silver.

In the end, Flint coaxes Silver onto his cock, has Silver ride him so that each time Silver grinds down against Flint's lap, Flint can watch Silver's eyes press closed and hear his soft whine as he takes the abuse. His fingernails sink into the muscle of Silver's thighs, and he thinks he's never seen such a beautiful sight.

* * *

"Did you like my gift?"

Flint has come once again to Madi's hut with the intention of returning a book he'd borrowed. He looks down, eyes skipping across the leather cover. "Gift?"

"Not this." Madi's fingers slip over his as she gently pries the book from him. When he looks up, he is met by the hint of her smile. "The gift I sent you last night."

His mouth goes dry again, just as it had when confronted by Silver's round, red, and raw ass on display for him.

"I - " He nearly fucking _stutters_. He takes a deep breath and collects himself. "I wasn't sure if the message was for him, or myself, or the both of us."

Madi tilts her head to one side. Under her regard, Flint finds himself drawing his shoulders upward. His hands are clasped behind his back. His back is ramrod straight.

"I had thought to impart a message to John Silver about the necessity of cooperation," she says, "and about its benefits. I thought you might appreciate seeing the evidence of such a reminder. Is it not so?"

"It is, ma'am."

"But now I also see," she says, "that you might require your reminder. A reminder that will not fade quite so quickly as a memory. Is that also so?"

His voice breaks he speaks. "Ma'am," he says, as his chin drops to his chest. His shoulders shake like palms in a gale.

Soft fingers seize his chin, tilt his face upwards. Madi's eyes are kind.

"It's alright," she says. "He didn't know how to ask for it, either."

Flint nods, closing his eyes. They fly open again when Madi presses a kiss to the ridge of his cheekbone. She rocks back, smiling up at him.

"Though," she says, "I have not yet figured out how to get him to address me as 'ma'am.'"

He gives a little laugh.

Madi steps back. Her gaze takes all of him in. He's never known anyone, not even Miranda, who could just command every inch of a room the way she does.

"Take off your clothes and lay at the edge of the bed, on your stomach," she says. "I'll return in a moment."

Ten years of piracy have not sufficed to wipe away the brutal efficiency with which he can carry out an order. Flint doesn't have to wait more than a few moments before she returns; and when she does, it is with a coil of rope in one hand and a wooden switch in the other.

He doesn't ask where these items come from, or who taught her the knots that she uses to bind his wrists together. The fabric of her skirts teases against the back of his thighs as she bends over his back, tying the final knot that secures his hands over his head.

"Is this" - his voice hitches - "what you did to John?"

"Nearly," Madi says. Her hands trace down his sides, shivers and gooseflesh following in their wake. "I made him give me his belt to use on him. Yours is too wide, captain. And he would not let me bind him. I can tell that you will be different, though. Calmer. You can take orders, and so that is how you know how to give them."

Her fingers rub small circles against his skin.

"You will tell me to stop if is too much. Say it."

"Yes. Ma'am."

Her hands withdraw.

He hears her pick up the switch.

He hears the high screech of it as it arcs through the air.

He hears the crack of it against the back of his thighs, before the wave of pain crashes through every sense he has.

He hears Madi's voice, saying things like, "You are so very good for this, captain."

The taste of blood fills his mouth as he bites on his cheek, unable to respond. His hips jerk each time she brings the switch down across the top of his thighs or his backside. Then in the next moment they are chasing the cruel touch.

"You are very quiet," Madi says. The switching stops. He's lost count of how many: enough that he floats in a red haze of pain, the stinging of his backside subsumed by the blood boiling through the rest of his body. Enough that Madi's arm and the rest of her has tired, given the way her voice wavers. "He was not quiet _at all_."

Flint has to bite at the curve of his own arm to stifle the sound that threatens to draw from him.

Madi's hands - so small, soft when they touch him but no stranger to hardness either - rub over the span of his shoulders. He is hard, of course, but this is good enough for now - just being touched. Harshly, or gently. Being cared for, being steered by Madi at the helm.

She tugs him onto the bed and puts him on his back while she straddles him.

"I made John come from just my fingers in him." Her small hand wraps around Flint's cock. "I made him tell me all about your beautiful cock, captain, and what he hoped you would do to him with it."

Flint can't help it: he whines.

"You, though." She brings the head to her lips and gives it a kiss. His hips jerk, but she's sitting on his thighs, so it doesn't earn him anything else. "I want you inside of me, after all these things that I have heard. Yes?"

He nods and Madi moves forward, sinking down on him with a sigh and a look of such pure bliss that it punches the air from Flint's lungs.

She rides him slowly, deliberately, determinedly - the way she does everything.

She does not see Silver when he enters the room, opens his mouth, and starts to say,

"I - "

Madi's body slows. Flint raises his head from the pillow as she turns to look over her shoulder at Silver.

Like yesterday, Silver's staring openly at both of them, mouth agape. Unlike yesterday, there is not a hint of anger on his face.

Silver licks his lips.

"Can I join you?" he asks.

Flint catches Madi's smile. "Of course you can," she says, as she resumes the inexorable rocking of her hips around Flint's cock. "Were you not invited? Do you have any objections, captain?"

He manages a nod, too afraid to speak, lest they both hear how absolutely fucking desperate he is.

There is sweat rolling between Madi's breasts by the time Silver clambers into the bed, stark-naked. He stops, staring at Flint; then Silver's running a hand up his chest, curling around the column of his neck, bending to devour Flint's mouth with his own.

When they break apart, Madi is screwing herself tightly around Flint's cock, her eyes dancing from Flint to Silver as she gasps with each new press of her hips.

"His mouth, John," she says.

"What? Oh," Silver says as he catches her meaning, and then there's a pillow under Flint's head and Silver's thighs straddling his face and the tip of Silver's cock entering his mouth.

Flint closes his eyes and savors the taste as Silver fucks his mouth. His body sinks into the bed and lets his body be used by both of them as the instrument of their pleasure.

" _Fuck,_ " Silver grinds out, "look at how fucking beautiful he is. So gorgeous - and - debauched - fuck!"

Flint gasps around Silver's cock, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he struggles to catch his breath. Silver pulls back for a moment, stroking his head.

"He is," Madi agrees. Her walls start to tremble around him before she cries out, and Flint feels himself spend inside her.

His cock is still twitching when Silver comes down his throat.

"Fuck," Silver says, and then he's pulling out and bending down to kiss Flint, his tongue chasing the taste of his own come inside Flint's mouth.

Flint would let either of them - both of them - devour him whole, if they haven't already.

Madi presses against Silver's other side and he cranes his neck to kiss her. It is a languid press of lips that Flint watches, wondering if Madi can catch the taste of himself on Silver's lips.

One of her hands creeps around Silver to tug at the bonds around his wrists. Silver's attention is diverted within the instant: he undoes Madi's careful knots, addressing kisses to the faint red marks that the ropework left.

"Look at what she did to you." Silver's eyes dance as he glares playfully at Madi, who is propped up on her side, smiling. He brings Flint's wrist to his mouth and nips at his pulsepoint. "To us. Delivering us from our own stupidity."

"Our stupidity?" Flint asks. Silver bites at his wrist harder.

Madi has a hand for each of their hearts. "I hope," she says, "that I have convinced you both about the importance of cooperation."

Silver laces all three of their fingers together. "May we never forget it."


End file.
